


you're better than them

by sketchbooksandspace



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Gen, Genetic Engineering Aftermath, Hurt No Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, relationship is background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 06:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20149147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchbooksandspace/pseuds/sketchbooksandspace
Summary: Every so often, Julian Bashir gets a certain phrase stuck in his mind. After three days of the constant repetition of what his genetic enhancements may mean, Julian finds himself unable to cope.





	you're better than them

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! just wanted to write a disclaimer for triggers. One, this is not a very happy story. It's a documentation of a panic attack, not that Bashir realizes it, and it doesn't have a nice, fluffy ending. Two, there is alcohol being used as an unhealthy coping mechanism as a large part of this story. So, not recommended if you're not having the greatest day. That being said, if you're able to, i hope you enjoy the story !! <333

It was common enough to get a song stuck in one's head. An earworm. A melody played over and over until scalping yourself seems less of an annoyance than the notes in your head. Less common (and more dire) were the earworms that were made up not of songs, but of a single saying, repeated over and over until you forgot what reality was like without it.

Julian had suffered with it in his head for three days now.

It was there in the Infirmary, when he spoke with Miles. It was there when delivering Sisko a report, when Kira shot him an exasperated look, when he tried flirting with Dax, when he succeeded in flirting with Garak. It was on over and over, with every action that anyone around him took, and with every absence of action as well.

_ You're better than them,  _ it said, and it was terrifying.

It had started after Julian gave a child a band-aid after the boy had fallen. As Julian pressed down the adhesive and gave the child a reassuring smile, he had thought,  _ you never had anything like this happen to you since you were six years old. You're better than them.  _ He was shocked at himself for thinking up such a statement, and visibly shook himself. Julian sent the boy off with a pat on the shoulders, turning to his research projects for a distraction from what had happened.

But it didn't go away. Not after a night's rest, not after two. 

On the afternoon of the third day, Julian had handed Sisko a report, and felt a twinge of annoyance at how long it took the Captain to read over it.  _ You could read all of that in a few seconds flat, and he's taking over half a minute just to  _ skim  _ that thing. You're better than them. _

That had been when Julian realized that this was becoming an earworm that couldn't be distracted away. He sighed a little, and thought to himself,  _ so?  _ It was meant to be a sort of reluctant acceptance. Yes, he might be smarter, a faster reader. But it didn't mean anything.

Oh, but that voice.  _ So, depose him.  _

Julian stopped breathing, and only stopped to ask Sisko to be excused early, I'm so very sorry but I had replicated Klingon for breakfast and it isn't agreeing with me, I think I may need to run- and Sisko practically shooed him away.

_ A very nice lie, _ the voice said.  _ But not perfect. He should've been able to see it. All you did was add an embarrassing detail. You would've seen through that. You're better than them. _

Though he did not dignify his thoughts with a response, Julian sought to prove them wrong in his own way: he walked to Garak's shop.

From an outside perspective  _ (One so easy for you to take, unlike others. You're better than them.)  _ it was quite jarring when Julian bounded into the tailor's shop, shouting out a criticism of the latest Cardassian novel he'd read before so much as a greeting. Garak, luckily, had once been a member of the Obsidian Order, and therefore was prepared to leap into unexpected situations with little hesitation  _ (You didn't need the training to be able to do that. You're better than them.) _ \- not that Garak would openly say so. But Julian knew. He knew.  _ Oh, there were so many things he knew- _

Damn it! Here was a being, sapient and with a soul, that challenged Julian. That sometimes won! _But you could've surpassed him. If you had an ounce of his training, you could surpass him. And do you know why?_

Julian trailed off in the middle of a sentence, maybe thirty minutes into their discussion. He was painfully aware of how Garak stared at him.

_ Because you're better than them.  _

Shut up. What Julian wouldn't do for his thoughts to be quiet. There was one thing that others surpassed him with. Quiet minds. _Thoughtless minds. Simple minds. Don't you know that you're-_

Julian turned and walked out of the shop, offering a few mumbled excuses to Garak.  _ Why should you need to give him excuses? You're better than them.  _ No, he wasn't. Intellect, reflexes, memory. They weren't all that was important.  _ Maybe not, but they're all you need to deserve power.  _ He deserved nothing.  _ You're better than them.  _ Why wouldn't it shut up? Even the sharp pain of biting down hard on his curled up index finger couldn't drown it out. 

Every passerby on the Promenade was flawed.  _ You're better than them. That woman just mispronounced a simple word. That man's gait is downright silly. That person's got such a terrible opinion. And did you see the Bolian bump into that Tellarite? Idiotic. Not a cohesive thought between any of them. Stupid, foolish. Unlike you. You're better than them.  _

It was supposed to be a relief when Julian found solitude in the Habitat Ring's secluded corridors, but that only invited an empty string of thought.

_ You're better than them. Why don't you take power? _

He wasn't better than anyone else. He knew that. But this… It had happened ever since he was fifteen. When his parents told him he was an Augment. 

_ You're better than them. You could take over this station in a night. _

When he opened his textbooks and looked at the chapters on the Eugenics Wars and felt this disgusting kinship to monstrous tyrants. 

_ You're better than them. Why not stop at the station? You could manage to stop this business with the war if only you were at the head of the Federation. _

When he scrunched up his nose at the massacres but felt a little tiny nagging pointing out justifications for every murder, every life taken.

_ You're better than them. You're selfish for not taking power. _

When he, as some sort of twisted fantasy, imagined himself on top of a throne, debating whether his power would be secure if he only killed a few hundred thousand instead of a million.

_ You're better than them You're better than them You're better than them You're _

By sheer instinct and autopilot  _ (Others don't have this. You're better than them.),  _ Julian had found himself in his quarters and grasping desperately at the cap of the bottle he had hidden in a cabinet for a celebration. When he finally opened the bottle, it splashed onto Julian's uniform- Ha, was he really so great?  _ Greater than anybody else-  _ but that was scarcely noticed, as Julian had wasted no time in drinking the liquor straight from its container. 

There wasn't a time before this that Julian had gotten drunk. Ever since childhood, he'd found it distasteful and undesirable to be so inhibited as was depicted in books and holovids. He'd eventually learned to take a sip or two at parties just to fit in. ( _ Why should you have to fit in? You're better than them.)  _ In fact, he quite liked the taste of a few sips of sparkling champagne. He'd even learned how to act drunk.  _ (And you're quite good at it. You're better than them.) _

He didn't want to act, anymore.

The alcohol came into effect much too slowly, not that Julian knew exactly how long it had taken. His entire mind, even his internal clock, was dedicated to the mantra of _ you're better than them, you're better than them.  _

He certainly was drunk when his combadge chimed. Julian knew that because he wasn't quite sure what was being said to him, or what was being said back.  _ (How amazing that you're able to carry on a conversation like this. You're better than them.)  _ However, his muddled processing skills were able to piece together what happened  _ (You're better than them.) _ when he heard the swoosh of his doors as they opened.

Fuck Garak. The damned lizard had bypassed the standard security protocols  _ (You could write ones better than what's provided. You're better than them)  _ and gotten into Julian's quarters, speaking in some condescending voice that made Julian want to scream  _ (You should. Incompetence is exasperating, and you're better than them).  _

For a moment, Julian wondered blankly if this was how it must've been for Garak during the incident with the wire. Then, he laughed between whatever Garak had been trying to say. He really was a terrible person. Such a terrible, terrible person.  _ Maybe I am like the other Augments. I’ve already killed Jules. Maybe it's my destiny to be evil.  _

_ But I'm not better than anyone else. _

_ Only worse.  _

But Garak was still there, saying something Julian didn't want to hear.  _ Let him talk his head off, _ Julian thought to himself,  _ it's the least such a demented bastard like me can do. Let him think he's helping me, even if he's not. I'm better than him. _

The last thought made Julian feel sick. Maddeningly, terribly sick and dizzy. He didn't want to think that, why did he think that? Fuck. He moved around the bottle he had clutched in his arms, that he was holding cradled between his chest and knees. It still had a good slosh of drink left in it.

He wasn't exactly sure how being so drunk was helping him, but it was the one thing he could do and so he did it to his best ability. _(20th_ _Century Augments had ambition altered to be above that of a Human. How could a Human get by without this ambition? You're better than them.)_ He moved to take a swig from the bottle, and froze when he felt a pressure on his wrist.

There was a brief moment of clarity, where Julian followed the gray hand at his sleeve to the scaley, ridged face of someone he loved. Loved. Loved? Did Julian really love Garak? He didn't feel capable of love, right now. He didn't know how he could ever have been capable of love. Right now, it all seemed so abstract, like he was reading about the capacity to love from a book. Right now, all Julian could remember was dread and anger. 

_ Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger.  _

Julian shoved roughly at Garak, keeping his grip on the liquor bottle.  _ If he wanted to, he could kill Garak. _ He knew that inherently in some deep corner of his mind. But the shock of the shove seemed well enough to get Julian's point across. Julian, having clumsily climbed to a standing position, took a moment to drink the last swig of his drink. 

_ Disgusting,  _ the voice, now merged with Julian's own thoughts, sung.  _ Look at how easy it was to strike him away. Isn't it laughable? Isn't it so terribly clear that you're better than them?  _ Julian threw his bottle against a wall, and watched it shatter. Good  _ Good. Isn't it fun, being able to destroy something like that? Isn't it satisfying for a twitch of your wrist to result in such a clear, crystal sound? What if it were another person? _

"Gettout," Julian croaked, staring listlessly at the wall where the bottle had shattered. He wanted the voice out of his thoughts, he wanted the voice to be gone. "Just shuddup and leave. Please."

And Garak walked away. And the doors closed. And Julian still could not remember what it felt like to love, but he felt loss. 

(What was that old proverb? Better to have loved and lost…)

At least the voice seemed to be gone, for now. If only it would never come back. But it did. It always, always did. Maybe it would be another three days, next time. Maybe it would be a week, or a month. Maybe next time it would never go away. It might be less cruel if it were just to stay. Then, Julian wouldn't have a chance to delude himself into thinking he'd gained any amount of humanity. 

Julian finally laid down onto the floor to sleep, but also to hopelessly await the next occurence of  _ this.  _

**Author's Note:**

> follow/talk to me on tumblr at [cardasssians](https://cardasssians.tumblr.com)


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